


Beyond The Veil

by AlwaysACuteMess



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Alternate Universe, Death, F/M, Guardian Angels, Heaven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:32:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10092998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysACuteMess/pseuds/AlwaysACuteMess
Summary: You don't know where you are or how you got there. Maybe you believed. Maybe you never believed. Maybe you'll never know.





	

Nothing.  
There was nothing.  
A distant, vacant lot surrounded you. In front of you, above you, to your left, your right, behind you; beneath you, as you looked, there was nothing. A vacant sense of panic filled you. A dull emotion that you had trouble grasping. As if you knew the definition but were lacking in the tools to feel it. Despite this, the nothing of what was actually there was peaceful. Sky. Gentle blue sky and white wispy clouds. Everywhere.

Somewhere you heard a voice. Sweet. Warm. Soft.  
Was it calling?  
Calling for you?

It felt as if your very foundation was shaking and threatening crumbling. When you could find them again, you reached your arms up, hands covering your eyes, trying to will away what had to be a night terror dressed up as something brighter. You were alone, that was a nightmare, no?

“Hey...” The voice called you again, and when you had the courage to lower your hands, you saw.

Green grass and tall, dense trees. Beautiful landscape that drew far into the distance, something to keep you planted. Buildings, maybe? In the far, _far_ distance?

“Hey.”

Then he appeared, too. A wonderfully gorgeous man. Tall. Wild, curly brown hair that was billowing softly in the breeze you now felt. Strong jaw covered in light stubble. A gentle smile. Big brown eyes behind a pair of thick black glasses. Wearing a black jacket, gray hoodie underneath. Some sort of band tee.

Before you knew it you’d started weeping.

“Oh- hey- it’s okay- hey-“ His hands were on your shoulders, big, strong and warm, holding you carefully. Your hands clutched at his shirt, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, and his arms wound around you. “It’s gonna be alright, I promise. It’s okay...” There was a musical lilt to song of his words, as he was trying to soothe you with a lullaby. It was working, mostly.

You didn’t know him, but you trusted him. And when you could finally breathe again you looked up at him. The tears hadn’t stopped but you felt a little foolish, now, easing away to wipe at your eyes. His hands returned back to your arms.

“Can you tell me your name?” A question that struck fear into you, for one reason or another. You found that you could not. Nowhere in the recess of your memory was there a name attached to your person. So you shook your head. “Oh- that’s okay.” Reaching up, he took the sides of your face in his palms, wiping his thumbs underneath your eyes. “Everything is gonna be okay. I promise. Okay? Do you believe me?”

Somehow you did. So you nodded. Unable to find your voice, still.

It earned a smile anyway. “Good.” He wiped away the last tracks of your tears before letting go of you, gesturing downward where a big leather bound book just seemed to _appear_ in his hands after a puff of smoke. “Alright- so- I’ve been assigned to you.. which is great. I really like you already.”

“...assigned?” Finally your throat unclenched, curiosity triumphing over quietness.

“Yeah, uh- oh. Shit. Hey- welcome to um- well they wanted us to stop calling it heaven. It’s not really heaven- and people were gettin’ mad because it doesn’t uh.. fit the _traditional_ standards of some people’s heavens but it’s- um.. a peaceful afterlife sort of situation?”

If he hadn’t stopped your crying a moment ago, this certainly would have. You blinked slowly at him, trying to make any sense of what he was saying. Or trying to find any validity in it. It was more likely you’d gone nuts. Or. Hit by a car or something. “What?” That was the only word you could think to be useful.

“Well...” He pushed the book up and it just _vanished_ in thin air. Then he nudged his glasses up with the knuckle of his pointer finger and aimed a sheepish smile your way. “You uh- well.. you died. And- the first thing I’m supposed to do is welcome you but um- well you started crying- which is totally cool, by the way. Crying is a-okay. And- I’m kinda new- so I’m not uh... very good at this whole.. thiiinguuh...” Drawing the word out comically with a roll of both his hands at the wrists.

Something that, for one reason or another, tickled you immensely, earning a giggle that then had your face going up in bright red when he grinned at you. “So I died.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Offering his condolences quickly but no less genuinely.

“And.. this is heaven-“

“Not heaven! A-“

“A peaceful afterlife situation.” You quoted him directly, and he grinned at you again, a little nod that bounced his heavy ringlets. “And you are...?”

“Assigned to you- or- err- well it’s kind of like guardian angel? But it’s not? Because angel isn’t- again that’s sort of a... a um.. different religious situation and this isn’t a.. um...” Noting the blankness fast approaching on your face as he rambled. “Here.” He half turned and you could have sworn you would have noticed the two large, elegant, fluffy white wings behind him before, but you hadn’t. And now they were most certainly there. “See?”

You had died, he was saying.  
You were in the place that came after death.  
He was an angel but not an angel.

“Uh-“

“It’s a lot to take in, I know- so- if you have any questions-“

“Angels wear glasses?” Shouldn’t they have been perfect? Or.. in heaven- or not heaven but sort of heaven- off-brand-heaven...

He looked confused before he just busted out with the sweetest, lightest giggles you’d ever heard in your life. “Yeah! If they have trouble seeing!” Said in such a _duuuuh_ tone.

“And you’re wearing a jacket? A hoodie?”

“It’s cold here!” Still laughing.

“And a- a Rush t-shirt?”

“I like Rush! What’s wrong with Rush- hey! If you have a problem with Rush, we’re gonna have issues, so you better tell me right now- do you like Rush or not?” His tone was mostly on the joking side but he seemed serious at the same time, giving you a look with his head tilted down, peering atop his glasses, lips pursed to one side, brows raised.

“I don’t uh.. I haven’t.. listened to them... much?” Nervous now, hoping that answer wouldn’t displease him.

“Oh! That’s great! We’ve _gotta_ listen to them.” Suddenly he put his arm around your shoulder, wheeling you the other way, starting an easy walk. “We’ll start with A Farewell to Kings. That’s my favorite album. And then-“

Putting your heels down, you stopped, which stopped him. His arm came away from you and he stood there looking mildly guilty and partly anxious, if you had to put an emotion to the big doe-eyes he was giving you. “I’m really dead?” This was happening so fast. How could any of it be real? And- “Why can’t I remember dying? Why can’t I remember _anything_?” You tried to refrain from shouting, from crying again, but they were both approaching fast.

His expression turned sad and slightly serious as he approached again, hands going to your arms. Holding on to you. Something you wanted to associate with comforting, but couldn’t now. “It means your death was traumatic.”

“Aren’t all deaths traumatic?” Who wanted to die? Who expected to die? Didn’t most people die not knowing they were about to die? How did that make any sense?

His lips pressed together. The word that came out of him next was somber and just slightly shaking, matching the look he was directing at you. “ _Violent_.”

That stole all the breath you had left.

**Author's Note:**

> Take. My. Computer. Away. From. Me. Or. I. Will. Never. Stop. Starting. New. Fics. Ever. I promise. I. Have. A. Problem.


End file.
